The Color of the Season

by Julianne MacLean

  “Hello!” I called out.

  We were greeted by a delicious aroma of freshly baked cookies.

  “Smells good in here,” Josh whispered.

  The lights were on in the kitchen but the rest of the house was dark and quiet…until I heard Mom’s voice at the top of the stairs.

  “Is that you, Holly?” She quickly descended. As she hurried toward me, she glanced briefly at Josh and threw her arms around my shoulders, pulling me close. “I’m so happy to see you.”

  “Me, too.” I let her hold me as long as she needed to, then we stepped apart and I gestured to Josh. “You remember Josh Wallace?”

  “Of course.” Her expression warmed. “Good heavens, look at you. All grown up. A police officer I hear. Where has the time gone?”

  “Hi, Mrs. James.” He gave my mother a dazzling, heartfelt smile that, despite the hardships of the evening, melted me into a giant puddle of happy infatuation.

  To my surprise, Mom held out her arms and hugged him, too. Then she led us into the kitchen for cookies.

  “How’s your mother?” she asked Josh.

  “Very well,” he replied. “She remarried last year.”

  “Lovely. So she’s happy, I presume?”

  “Very. She married a good man.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Mom said. “Will you tell her I said hello?”

  “Of course.”

  We sat down on the stools at the center island where the cookies were displayed on a three-tiered, sterling silver serving dish. Mom moved to the fridge to withdraw a carton of milk.

  “Is Dad here?” I cautiously asked.

  She poured us each a glass and shook her head. “He wanted to be, but he had a surgery this evening. He said it might run late.”

  “Ah.” I was both relieved and disappointed because I’d been dreading this confrontation, yet at the same time I wanted to get it over with. I wanted to tell both my parents that I was no longer with Paul—I was with Josh now—and that we had just visited Riley in Montana. Most importantly, I wanted them to understand what sort of future I saw for myself.

  Since Dad wasn’t there, I decided to confide in my mother, regardless.

  “You’re probably wondering where I’ve been for the past few days,” I said.

  “I can guess,” she replied, lifting an eyebrow from where she stood on the opposite side of the island. “Your father wasn’t too happy when he saw your car parked in front of Josh’s house. No offense, Josh.”

  “None taken.”

  I let out a breath of frustration. “He banged pretty hard at the door but we didn’t answer. He seemed too angry.”

  “I can’t say I blame you for not answering,” she replied. “And Josh, I apologize if his behavior was disrespectful in any way.”

  Surprised by her candor, I wondered if she would have said something like that if Dad had been standing there beside her. Probably not. Knowing the dynamic of their relationship as well as I did, I suspected she would have remained silent through most of this conversation.

  “No worries,” Josh said.

  I reached for a cookie, set it on my plate but found I didn’t have much of an appetite, so I simply leaned forward on my elbows.

  “We weren’t at Josh’s house the whole time,” I began to explain.

  “Oh?”

  “That’s what I came here to talk to you about,” I continued. “A few nights ago I sent an email to Riley. He said he wanted to see me, so Josh and I hopped on a flight to Montana to pay him a visit.”

  Mom stood motionless, blinking. “You saw him.”

  I nodded my head.

  “How was he?”

  “Great,” I eagerly replied. “He was happy and looked terrific. He lives in a good neighborhood. His wife is very nice and his children are adorable. He’s okay, Mom. You don’t need to worry about him. You’d be proud. He’s really turned his life around. “

  Her cheeks flushed red and she raised a hand to her mouth. “Thank God,” she whispered, turning her back on us.

  Quickly, I rose from my stool to circle around the island and embrace her. “He’d love to hear from you,” I gently added. “He said he tried contacting us a number of times over the years but Dad always told him to stay away and he even threatened him with a restraining order. But that has to stop, Mom. We can’t go on like that. Dad shouldn’t be able to keep us apart. I fully intend to see Riley again, whether Dad likes it or not.”

  Just then, the front door opened. My mother gasped and quickly wiped the tears from her face, as if to hide them.

  Anger poured through me at the fact that both of us were so unsettled by my father’s arrival. How had it come to this? How had he gained so much power over everyone? It wasn’t as if he beat us. That sort of thing had been reserved for Riley.

  Maybe it was because we’d witnessed it. We knew what he was capable of.

  Or maybe it was the money. He could cut me off if he wanted to. Was that it?

  Hearing the sound of his footsteps approaching from the front hall, I clenched my jaw and met Josh’s steady gaze.

  Chapter Forty-nine

  My father walked into the kitchen and regarded each of us individually. Josh slowly stood up.

  For a tense moment, I wasn’t sure what was going to happen. A part of me thought—and hoped—maybe my father might surprise us all, stroll forward to shake Josh’s hand and say, “Nice to see you. Welcome.” He could certainly be charming when he wanted to be. I’d seen it many times. Most of the time, in fact.

  His eyes met mine. “We were worried about you,” he said.

  “You didn’t need to be,” I replied. “I texted Mom and told her I was okay. That I was staying with a friend.”

  He turned to Josh. “And you’re the friend, I assume.”

  “That’s right,” Josh calmly replied.

  A sharp feeling of agitation rose up in my throat.

  “How do you think Paul would feel about this?” my father asked me.

  “It’s not really any of his business anymore,” I explained, “because I ended our relationship a few hours ago.”

  Dad closed his eyes briefly, then gestured toward Josh. “Because of this guy.”

  “Yes,” I admitted, denying nothing, making no apologies.

  My father’s head drew back as if I had swung a wooden plank in front of his face. “What are you saying? That you want to be with this man here?” He pointed at Josh, who exercised remarkable self-control by remaining silent. “Is that it?”

  “Please stop talking about him like he’s not here.” I moved around the kitchen island to stand before my father, who was a full twelve inches taller than me. “We came here tonight to tell you that I’m moving out. I’ll be looking for my own apartment, but in the meantime I’ll be staying with Josh. And yes, we’re involved. In fact, we just got back from a trip to Montana where we visited Riley for three days. And guess what? Josh stayed in my room. We slept in the same bed.”

  “Holly!” my mother scolded.

  Maybe I was more like my brother than anyone realized—myself especially—because I had no regrets about what I’d just said. In fact, I wanted to rouse my father’s anger. I wanted to provoke him.

  Dad regarded me like a bull about to charge. I was prepared to drop into a karate stance if I had to, but to my surprise, he balled his hand into a fist and swung a punch at Josh.

  Before I could shout at him to stop, Josh had grabbed him by the shoulder, twisted his arm and dropped him firmly, face down, on the floor. He continued to restrain my father with a knee to the spine, arm leveraged, a tight grip around his wrist.

  I knew Josh could dislocate my father’s shoulder in an instant if he were so inclined.

  “Are you all right, sir?” Josh calmly asked.

  “No, dammit!” Dad shouted indignantly, but it was his ego that was bruised, not his body.

  “I’m going to back off now.” Josh let go of Dad’s wrist, rose to his feet and took two steps away. Grimacing w
ith pain, he lay a hand on his abdomen over the incision and bent forward slightly.

  “Are you all right?” I asked.

  He nodded, but bit down hard on his lower lip as he leaned on the center island.

  Mom watched the scene in silent horror, both hands covering her face.

  “I’m sorry,” I said to her. “I didn’t want it to be like this.”

  Dad rose awkwardly to his feet. “I told you not to contact Riley!” he shouted at me.

  “Really Dad? That’s all you have to say right now?”

  He scowled and took a deep breath. “Mark my words, if you walk out of here with that man…” He pointed a threatening finger at Josh. “Don’t expect to ever come back. That’s not how it works in this house.”

  “No?” I said. “That’s not how the great machine operates? Did I push the wrong button?”

  With a shake of my head, I turned to hug my mother and whispered in her ear: “Please call me. I’ll text you my new address. You can visit.”

  Deeply concerned about Josh’s condition, I took hold of his hand and left the kitchen. “I hope you didn’t tear anything,” I said quietly as we crossed the hall.

  “I’m fine,” he replied. “Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t apologize. You were perfect. And you’re not fine. I’m going to check that incision as soon as we get in the car—and I’ll be driving.”

  We grabbed our coats and walked out.

  “You don’t have to look for your own place, you know,” he mentioned as we descended the stairs. He moved awkwardly, clearly in pain. “You can stay with me as long as you like. Rent free.”

  “I may need to take you up on that.” I stayed with him on the stairs in case he might suddenly pass out. We reached his car and I took the keys from him. “Because nothing would give me greater pleasure than to drive my father completely stark raving mad.”

  “Who knew you were such a rebel?” Josh asked with an attractive, devilish grin as he got in on the passenger side.

  “Certainly not me.”

  As soon as we were seated, I reached up and flicked on the interior light. “Lower your seat back.”

  He did as I asked and allowed me to open his jacket, lift his shirt and inspect the incision. “It’s not bleeding,” I said. “It looks all right.” My eyes lifted to find him perspiring heavily. “What about your leg?”

  “Hurts like hell.”

  I glanced down at his thigh. “There’s no blood on your jeans so that’s a good sign. I’ll check it as soon as we get home. And you shouldn’t have done that.”

  There was a look of raw determination on his face. “I didn’t even realize I was doing it until he hit the floor.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “I know that feeling.”

  A moment later we were pulling out of the driveway. I didn’t let myself look back.

  Breaking Open

  Chapter Fifty

  Josh Wallace

  Nearly two weeks after our confrontation with Holly’s parents, I had the dream again.

  I was driving through the rain, alone in my patrol car, wipers beating back and forth, lights flashing. As I rounded a sharp curve, a woman pushed a baby carriage out in front of me.

  I slammed a foot on the brake pedal. My tires skidded over the shiny pavement. Whack! I hit the carriage. It flew into the air.

  The baby, swaddled in a white blanket, bounced like a football over the hood of my car and smashed the windshield. I watched everything as if it were happening in slow motion, then squinted to try and refocus my eyes on the road.

  I was still traveling at full speed.

  Leah!

  She stood on the center line, feet braced apart, both hands splayed out in front of her.

  “Stop!” She mouthed the words: “Go back!” Then she vanished before connecting with my grill.

  I pulled the car to a screeching halt, looked over my shoulder to see the mother on her knees at the side of the road, reaching for her baby.

  I shifted into reverse to help them.

  “No!”

  I sat bolt upright in bed.

  It took me a moment to understand where I was. Holly was rubbing my back, stroking her fingers through my sweat-drenched hair, speaking urgently.

  “It was just a dream, Josh. You’re fine. Everything’s okay.”

  My heart pummeled my ribcage as I lay back down. She kissed my forehead, then wrapped her arm around me and snuggled close.

  I shut my eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but it was no use. I had to get up.

  Chapter Fifty-one

  Over the next few weeks, Holly secured herself a line of credit at the bank and found a small furnished bachelor apartment not far from the university. I was sorry to see her leave and insisted she could stay with me as long as she liked, but she was determined to get her own place and live independently for a while.

  We continued to talk on the phone every night and spent time together on the weekends, and she maintained contact with her mother through regular texts and phone calls. Mrs. James admitted that she had called Riley and fully intended to visit him, but she was keeping it secret from her husband until she figured out how to manage it—and him.

  “Get this,” Holly said to me when I met her for lunch at the hospital after one of my physio appointments. “Mom’s been seeing a therapist ever since Leah was first diagnosed. I didn’t know until she told me this morning. She’s been trying to get Dad to go for counseling, too, but he won’t do it.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” I asked as I dug into my salad.

  “It doesn’t surprise me either,” Holly replied, “but I wish he’d budge on something. Anything. Even just to show us that he’s not made of stone.”

  “Maybe your mom will be able to talk him into it after everything that’s happened lately,” I suggested.

  I would have liked to hold out hope for that, but I think deep down, neither of us truly believed it would happen.

  o0o

  When the time came for me to return to work, I was beyond ready. My wounds had healed well and I felt fit and strong—though I knew I’d be kidding myself if I thought I could chase after a perp and leap over a chain link fence anytime soon.

  As a result, my lieutenants assigned me to a desk job until they deemed me fit for regular duty. I saw a department-appointed therapist twice a week, always in the mornings. Who knows? Maybe they felt those bullets I took should count as a free ticket out of the graveyard shift. I told them I could handle anything, but they were determined to ease me slowly and gradually back into the patrol car.

  The therapist asked me all sorts of questions about my thoughts and feelings since my return to work and I answered everything honestly, though I never made any reference to what happened to me during my stay in the hospital. I said nothing about how I floated to the ceiling in the operating room, or how I spoke to Leah—a dead person—nor did I draw any attention to the fact that my in-hospital psychiatric appointments had been mysteriously cancelled.

  The last thing I needed was a note in my chart saying “patient suffers from severe hallucinations and deliriums.”

  I did my best to put it behind me, but it was hard to forget.

  o0o

  I was just finishing my shift on a Wednesday when a panicked text came in from Holly.

  Josh…You there? Please answer…

  I quickly typed a reply: I’m here. Call me.

  Within ten seconds, my phone rang. I quickly swiped the screen to answer it. “Hey,” I said, raising it to my ear. “What’s up?”

  She spoke quickly in a strained voice. “Mom just called me. She said she and Dad had a huge argument and she’s locked herself in her bedroom. She wants to leave but she doesn’t know if he’ll let her. I’m worried. She was whispering the whole time.”

  “Did he hit her?” I asked. “Was there any sort of physical altercation?”

  “No, but she said she doesn’t feel safe. She’s afraid to come out of he
r room. She asked me to come and get her but I don’t have my car here. Can you go?”

  I grabbed my keys off the desk and headed out. “I’m on my way right now.”

  Chapter Fifty-two

  Still in uniform, I pulled into Dr. James’s driveway, quickly got out of the car, ran up the steps and rang the doorbell. When no one answered, I banged five times with the edge of my fist. “Dr. James! Are you home?”

  His car was in the driveway and there were lights on inside. I listened carefully for voices but heard nothing until the sound of footsteps approached. At last the door opened.

  Dr. James, dressed in jeans and a navy golf shirt, greeted me with a frown. “What are you doing here?” His gaze raked disapprovingly from the brim of my police hat to the badge pinned on my shirt, then down to my gun belt and black boots.

  “Your wife called Holly and asked to be picked up. Holly couldn’t leave the hospital so she asked me to come instead.”

  “My wife doesn’t need a ride anywhere,” Dr. James replied.

  I carefully scrutinized his expression, searching for signs of duplicity or agitation, and noticed his right hand flexing and fisting. “Where is your wife, sir?”

  “She’s upstairs.”

  “Could you ask her to come down please? I’d like to speak to her.”

  Dr. James glared at me intensely. “This isn’t any of your business, Josh.”

  “Well, since your daughter asked me to stop by and check on her mother, I think that makes it very much my business. Mind if I come in?”

  His brow furrowed. “Yes, I do mind.”

  I held his gaze steadily in mine. “Let’s not make this any more difficult than it has to be. I need to see Mrs. James. She called for assistance and said she didn’t feel safe. If we can just clear that up, I’ll get out of your way.”